by Stormy Glenn
Hands of Fate 1
Beloved Fate
When lightning strikes the road ahead of his limousine, CEO Nikos Papadakos has no idea that the hands of fate are about to change his life forever. Finding a naked man in the middle of the road is odd enough, but the horns and wings take things to a whole new level of crazy. Before he can discover if he’s lost his mind or not, he’s claimed by a creature that insists they are long lost soul mates.
Yannis is a guardian gargoyle. It is his duty and honor to guard the Temple of Zeus. It is his heartache that he can’t seem to find his Beloved. When he finds Nikos, Yannis gives in to his need to claim the man, not understanding until it’s too late that the man he claims doesn’t believe in the hands of fate—or soul mates.
When the sisters of fate discover that sorcery has been used to keep two soul mates apart, they band together with other Gods of Olympus to bring the two men together, but those that fight to keep them apart won’t stop until one of them is dead.
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Fantasy
Length: 36,591 words
BELOVED FATE
Hands of Fate 1
Stormy Glenn
EROTIC ROMANCE
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove
BELOVED FATE
Copyright © 2013 by Stormy Glenn
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-681-9
First E-book Publication: September 2013
Cover design by D. L. Benson
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
About the Author
BELOVED FATE
Hands of Fate 1
STORMY GLENN
Copyright © 2013
Prologue
Clotho, one of the three spinners of fate, sang of the things that are as she spun and weaved the threads of life on her spindle for the latest soul placed in her keeping. It was a duty given to her and her sisters before time began by their father, Zeus, and one they did with a steadfast dedication.
Her sister Lachesis sat beside her, singing of the things that were as she measured the threads woven by Clotho. Lachesis measured the thread of life allotted to each person with her measuring rod, choosing the lot in life a mortal would have and measuring off how long that life would be.
Beside them both sat Atropos, singing of the things that are to be as she cut the threads of life. She chose the manner of each person’s death, and when their time came, she cut their life-thread with “her abhorred shears.”
They were the Moirai sisters, the Three Hands of Fate. They controlled the threads of life of every mortal from birth until death. At the moment of birth, they spun the threads of destiny, because birth ordained death. They gave mortals at birth both evil and good moments, determining when they were brought into the world, and when they left.
Clotho smiled as she looked into the foggy abyss and watched as a new soul floated toward her, vying for position as the next soul to be born. “This is a strong one, Eileithyia. He fights to be born.”
Eileithyia, the ancient Goddess of Childbirth, and cousin to the three Moirai sisters, laughed as she walked closer to the abyss and looked down into its cloudy depths. “He is to be a warrior, my dear cousin, a guardian for the Tempio di Giove Olimpicoon on Sicily.”
“A guardian at the Temple of Olympian Zeus?” Clotho was impressed. “That’s a very prestigious position.”
“He will earn it when he fights in the Battle of Himera. His honor and sacrifice will be talked about in the halls of Olympus for ages to come.”
Clotho sighed sadly. “I always love spinning the threads of the warrior, but it breaks my heart knowing that their life threads are often so short.” Warriors died with glory and honor, but they still died. It always tugged at Clotho’s heart, knowing that the threads she spun could end so quickly.
“It is not for us to choose, my sister,” Atropos said. “We spin the threads given to us.”
“I know. I just—” Clotho stilled as she looked at the fabric of time that she wove the life threads into after Lachesis measured them and Atropos cut them. Her breath slowly caught in her throat as she stared at the small knotted and frayed thread. “Sisters, there’s a snag.”
“What?” twin voices shouted.
Atropos and Lachesis rushed to her side, all three of them staring at the snag in the fabric with something akin to horror. This was bad, very bad. Very few times in the history of man had there been a snag in the fabric of time—the fall of Babylon, Pompeii, the Black Plague, the two great wars that had covered the entire surface of the world, numerous earthquakes and tsunamis, and bell bottom p
ants, just to name a few.
And every time, mischievous and often evil forces had been at work.
“Can you tell what happened?” Lachesis whispered.
Clotho started at the beginning of the thread and slowly moved her fingers over it, following it as it weaved in and out of other life threads until she reached the snag. “He is one of our temple guardians, sisters. He was supposed to be rewarded for his service and find his mate here”—Clotho pointed to a section on the thread just after the snag—“but something kept his soul mate from being born.”
“No!” Atropos cried out. “That’s not possible. If you pulled a soul from the abyss, then you had to have weaved a thread for his soul mate.”
“I did,” Clotho insisted. “I would never spin a thread without there being a soul mate to bond it with. It is forbidden by our sacred laws.”
“Then how—”
“I smell sorcery, cousins.”
Clotho shuddered as she glanced up at Eileithyia. “Sorcery?” There was nothing in the world that Clotho hated more than sorcerers. They were the spawns of Hades and made life for mortal man a living hell. “What can we do?”
“Call Maat,” Eileithyia suggested. “If anyone can fix the fabric of time, she can.”
Clotho wasn’t so sure. She and her sisters controlled the threads of life of every mortal from birth to death. They were independent, at the helm of necessity. They directed fate and watched it be assigned to every being by sacred and eternal laws. They represented a power to which even the Gods had to conform.
Their cousin Maat might be the Goddess of Truth, Justice, and Harmony, but even she had rules she had to adhere to. Messing with fate just wasn’t done. On the other hand, Maat did stand for the spirit of truth and fairness. If anyone could buck the system, it was the Goddess Maat.
Clotho closed her eyes and sent out a call to her cousin Maat, requesting her presence in the highest tower of Olympus where she and her sisters resided. She smiled and opened her eyes when she felt a dry breeze blow over her skin as a portal opened and the Goddess Maat came through.
“Cousins.” Maat nodded with a deep smile, showing off the adorable dimples in each cheek that she was often teased about. “How may I be of assistance to the hands of fate?”
“There’s been a snag in the fabric of time,” Clotho explained almost stoically. “We believe it is the result of sorcery.”
Maat was a beautiful young woman, her long black hair always perfectly combed, and not a wrinkle or stain on her long, flowing white gown. The moment she heard the word sorcery, her hair began to wave around her shoulders in wild array and the golden string on her gown curled into knots.
“Sorcery!”
“We believe so, cousin.” Clotho pointed to the colorful fabric on her loom. “There’s a snag that prevented a soul mate from being born at the right moment in time. Because of that, this warrior will die without ever meeting his soul mate.” Clotho felt a tear slide down her cheek as she turned back to her cousin. “He’s one of ours, Maat, and he will die alone.”
Clotho cringed when Maat’s nostrils flared with rage. No one liked pissing off the Goddess of Truth, Justice, and Harmony. She could be a real bitch when thwarted. Her belief in the balance of things was the foundation of her very existence. When that balance was upset, Maat became enraged.
“As you well know, the hands of fate are not easily trifled with,” Maat began as she slowly circled the abyss of souls. “For someone to prevent a soul mate from being born, not only did sorcery have to be a part of it, but the very fabric of time had to be tainted by their evil. That cannot be allowed, cousins.”
“Can you fix it?” Clotho held her breath as she waited for an answer.
“I make no promises. Magic this powerful will be hard to counteract.” Maat drew in a deep breath, her eyes turning crimson red. “But I will try.”
Clotho watched in awe as Maat reached down into the abyss of souls and swished her hand around and around. Souls swirled through the gray and white fog that filled the abyss, each one moving through Maat’s fingers like water until she suddenly snapped her fingers closed.
“There you are.” Maat gently pulled a soul up, glancing over her shoulder at Clotho. “I need a new thread, dear cousin.”
Clotho quickly pulled an unused white thread from her basket and held it out to her cousin. Maat took the thread and carefully wove it around the soul caught in her fingers. She turned and spun the thread over and over again.
“Eileithyia, I need your assistance.”
Eileithyia was hovering over Maat in a second.
“I need something to bind this thread with its destined soul mate,” Maat said. “As the Goddess of Childbirth who prophesizes the fate of the newly born, I believe you can do it.”
Eileithyia started to reach for the thread then paused. “Aren’t you worried about what this will do?”
“This has never been done before, cousin. We have no idea what this will do. I just know that this thread needs to be bound to the other one and simply twining them together will not do. We need something stronger to hold them together. The bond must be unbreakable.”
Eileithyia looked hesitant, but then, with a thin-lipped look of determination, she pulled a single strand of her long flowing blond hair free and held it out. Maat wrapped the golden hair around the thread then pricked her finger and let a single drop of blood bind them together.
“Hear me, Gods and Goddesses,” she began to chant. “Hear me while I speak forth what the heart within my breast urges. This day, the Goddess Eileithyia shall bring forth a man to the light who, among the men sprung of our blood, shall be lord over all those dwelling about him.
Goddess of Childbirth, Eileithyia, Moirai, sisters of fate, child of Goddess of Truth, Justice, and Harmony, hear my song. For without thee should we see neither the light of day, nor know the kindly dark, thy sisters, nor obtain the gift of life.
Spin now, thy sisters of fate, joyfully spin your threads of shining white! Let none reckon the measures of life already spent for this day is the birth day of life yet to be lived. By Kronides and Gaia, by Aither, and the floods of Styx, formally witness this binding. And may the Gods find favor upon you.”
Maat glanced at Clotho, holding the new thread gingerly between her fingers. “Quickly now, cousin, intertwine this with your warrior’s thread.”
“But they are from different times, cousin.” Clotho’s eyes rounded at what Maat wanted her to do. There were certain sacred laws that the fates had to follow, soul mates being born of the same time period was one of them. “This warrior lived centuries previous.”
“Time is relative, dear cousin. And this is the only way to bring these two souls together.” Maat folded her hands together, letting them dangle in front of her as she grimaced. “There will be a price to be paid for our interference, but only time will tell what that is.”
Clotho frowned, not sure if she liked that, but did as her cousin directed, spinning the new thread on her spindle then weaving it together into the fabric of time with that of the warrior’s. She only realized when she was done and sat back to look at her handiwork that the new thread had not been measured by Lachesis or cut by Atropos.
There was no set lifespan for the new thread.
“What does this mean, cousin?” Clotho whispered as she glanced over her shoulder.
Maat’s bright smile was filled with a deep satisfaction. “It means that their destiny has yet to be decided.”
Chapter 1
Nikos Papadakos rubbed the bridge of his nose when the words on his electronic tablet started to blur. No matter how many times he looked at the numbers his assistant had given him, they were not adding up correctly.
The computer software company his board of directors wanted him to buy out just didn’t have a good financial base. It was going to go broke within the year. Nikos would bet his entire fortune on it—and he would be if he bought the company for the exuberant amount they were asking for.
Why his board of directors chose this company to purchase, he would never know. It was obvious that the failing computer company had serious financial difficulties. This venture never even should have been brought to his attention.
Nikos was really starting to get tired of the people he employed playing fast and loose with his money. It was easy for them to pick companies out of a hat and suggest he gamble on their financial future. If the company tanked, the money didn’t come out of their pockets. It came out of Nikos’s.
He had left the old guard in place when he took over the company, but maybe it was time for a changing of the guard. Maybe it was time that he brought some new blood into the company, people that would understand the changing world they lived in. The people he had in place now seemed to be living in the past, and that just wasn’t good business.
Nikos glanced out the smoky glass window of his limousine just in time to see a bright flash of lightning scorch across the sky and hit the road directly in front of his vehicle. He dropped his tablet and grabbed onto the edge of his seat and the handle on the door when the car suddenly swerved.
What in the god’s name was going on?
Nikos reached over and hit the button that lowered the smoky glass partition between him and his driver. “Was that lightning, Sahm?”
Sahm was an expert driver and bodyguard. Nikos never went anywhere without the man and hadn’t in the ten years that Sahm worked for him.
Dark-gray eyes stared at Nikos in the rearview mirror as the man slowly nodded his head. “I believe so, sir.”
Nikos’s heart beat a little faster. While the lightning strike hadn’t hit the car, it had landed awfully damn close. He picked up his tablet then realized that the car hadn’t started moving faster again. In fact, it felt like it was slowing down to a crawl.
“Is everything okay, Sahm?”
“There’s something in the road, sir.”
Nikos leaned forward, looking through the opening between him and the front of the car. “Well, what is it?”